


embrium

by canniballistics



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Flower Crowns, Gen, Party Banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:13:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4186389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniballistics/pseuds/canniballistics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the Inquisitor's turn for Cole to do his heart-reading trick on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	embrium

**Author's Note:**

> i didn't realize until after i'd finished that there were one too many people in the party, but i liked what they all said too much to take anyone out )8

"It keeps you awake, some nights. More than you like to admit."

Ashur, Varric, Dorian, and Iron Bull were all quiet when Cole spoke, no one quite sure who he was addressing. They were all most of the way to used to him by now, but vague comments like that could still take them by surprise. He gave no indication of whom he was speaking to, pulling ahead as the others' pace slowed.

"You'll have to be a little more specific, Cole," Ashur said tentatively, when he was sure no one else was going to respond. "We all have things that weigh on us sometimes."

"It weighs on you especially, drags you down when no one can see. You don't tell anyone because you don't want to appear weak." Cole's hands fluttered at his sides, clenching and unclenching before scrubbing at his face in a familiar way that sent chills down Ashur's spine. " _"I am the Inquisitor. There are people who believe in me, who need me to be strong so they can have hope too. What would they do if they knew I wasn't?"_ "

"You might wanna stop while you're ahead, kid," Varric suggested, noticing Ashur's sudden discomfort and stepping in. It wasn't likely to work, and they all knew it; still, the gesture was appreciated. He nudged Ashur with an elbow as he looked up at him, asking, "You okay?"

"I'm— I'm fine. Thank you, Varric." It was the first time Cole had read him, and Ashur wasn't sure he wanted him to continue. He'd been party to when Cole had prodded at the others, however, and knew he wasn't one to let up easily. Perhaps his time for some soul-searching had finally come?

"Fine, he says," Dorian chimed in. "And yet the rest of us feel eviscerated and raw afterwards. Still, you do seem to be handling it much better than everyone else has. So far."

"Handling things." Cole crouched down, and as Ashur approached him, he could see that his head was bowed, hands moving in front of him. "You think you're handling them badly. _"How many more will die because of my choices?"_ Waking up in the middle of the night, hands gripping for a sword that's across the room. Have to remember to keep it closer to the bed next time. It's not safe, but I _feel_ safer. Echoes of screams ringing in my ears, not sure if they're dream or memory. The nightmares won't stop. He keeps laughing."

Ashur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Maker's breath, why did Cole have to do this _now_? He could sense the others looking at him, felt that familiar prickle of fear that normally only came to him in the dark of night. He wasn't wrong, though; Cole never was. He could see the nightmare so vividly, the same one nearly every night: Haven burning around him, soldiers and refugees screaming as they fell. His greatsword changed uselessly into a toy as Corypheus scoffed, demanding to know how the Pretender was going to stop him. He'd never told anyone about the nightmares, and hadn't ever intended to. What would the Inquisition do if they knew their chosen leader was questioning every step he made? If sometimes, the guilt over Haven was so overwhelming he didn't sleep? Would they oust him? Figure Roderick to be right and lock him away? Had the lives lost at Haven been lost for nothing? Worse still, would his friends lose their faith in him if they knew his fears? 

When he opened his eyes again, Cole was standing directly in front of him, the brim of his hat millimeters away from his face. "I'm upsetting you. I didn't mean to." He raised his head, finally meeting Ashur's gaze as he continued, "You shouldn't blame yourself. They were happy to die, to give you a chance. They believed in you." Cole ducked his head again as he pressed whatever he'd been working on into Ashur's hands. "Your friends, too. They want to tell you, but don't know how. You are much stronger than you think."

An awkward, almost embarrassed sort of hush fell over them then. Ashur looked down at the thing Cole had given him, taking a moment to realize it was a wreath of embrium. A healing flower.

"Solas told me, after he went walking in the Fade the other night. The ones that could still remember were asking after you, wanted you to have this. Not _this_ , but something like it." He gestured to the wreath. "They think it will help you sleep, but don't know that it's for sicknesses in the body, not in the soul. They wanted me to use Prophet's Laurel." Cole paused, frowning as he contemplated the herbs' benefits. And then a look back at Ashur, pulling his hat lower on his head as he finished, "You should start to forgive yourself. No one is blaming you for what happened; you're the only one."

He turned to continue walking then, and Ashur watched for only a moment before he stumbled forward as a large hand clapped his back. "So that's what you're worried about, huh? Why do you think we've stuck around with your Inquisition this long?" Iron Bull grinned as he started after Cole. "You're doing good work here, boss. Me and the Chargers are proud to be a part of it. We _all_ are."

"Yes, if anyone is to blame it's that Corypheus. Though I suppose without him, our merry little band of misfits might never have been started." Dorian gripped Ashur's shoulder, walking past to catch up to where Cole and Bull had gotten ahead of them. "So it seems we may have to _thank_ him for it, too. Ugh, I shudder at the thought."

Varric chuckled as he and Ashur watched the others gain ground, Bull and Dorian's voices carrying on the breeze as they plied Cole for wreaths of their own. The dwarf crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head. "If the Inquisition is Sparkles' idea of a 'merry little band', I'd hate to find out his definition of an army." He looked up at Ashur, smiling out of the side of his mouth at him. "I've been around a hero or two in my lifetime, Ash, and like it or not, you're one of 'em. It's not your fault you were handed a shitshow. Still, all things considered, you're doing pretty damn well with what you've got. It's the one thing all of us can agree on."

He too began walking, and Ashur looked back down at the wreath in his hand. It was beautiful, and combined with the words of his friends, a more than welcome sign that maybe he wasn't doing as badly as he thought. _It's the one thing all of us can agree on_. So that meant the others had talked about him, about his actions, while he wasn't around. It should have been expected, with a group like theirs; still, the realization both unnerved him and bolstered his spirit. Idly, he wondered what else they might be saying without him. Maybe he could ask Cole about that later.

"You're falling behind," Cole said from his side, nearly scaring him out of his skin. "They're starting to worry. They think I said the wrong thing." Ashur hadn't seen him double back, too engrossed in his thoughts, but looking at him now it was hard to miss the flowers stuffed into every available pocket. "They're for the others. They asked me for one too," Cole explained when he noticed the look, and then deftly plucked the wreath out of Ashur's hands, surprisingly careful not to disturb the bun as he set it atop his head.

Ashur reached out, gently catching Cole's wrist to stop him from taking off again, and smiled. "Thank you, Cole. I mean it. I..needed that."

Cole looked at him, misunderstanding as he replied, "It will be easier to fight this way. Your hands aren't full. No one can use a greatsword with one hand." He turned to leave, and paused, head cocked to the side as he voiced a new thought: "The Iron Bull could probably do it. He's very strong." 

Then he was gone. Ashur reached up to adjust the wreath-turned-crown, wondering what the rest of the world would say if they could see him right now, and then decided that in this moment, he didn't care. It was a gift, a symbol of the faith his friends had in him, and he was proud to wear it, Venatori, Orlesian nobility, Corypheus, and Chantry all be damned. And when he lifted his head and charged to catch up to the rest of the party, it was with a lighter heart, as well.


End file.
